


Tea and Sympathy

by Tea_and_Sympathy



Category: History Boys (2006), History Boys - All Media Types
Genre: Irwin/Scripps not like that, M/M, Post-Canon, all dialogue for the discipline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22464103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_and_Sympathy/pseuds/Tea_and_Sympathy
Summary: In which Scripps and Irwin come to an understanding (friendship even) over a nice cup of tea and a sit down and in which Dakin is Dakin despite being mostly out for the count. Rated teen because, like most clever people, they swear a lot.
Relationships: Stuart Dakin/Tom Irwin, Tom Irwin/Donald Scripps
Comments: 14
Kudos: 11





	Tea and Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I am very late to this party having obviously been living under a rock. I'm exercising my writing muscle after a while away and, having fallen in love with these characters, thought I make use of them. I wanted to write something warm and hopeful for them - a bit fun, a bit funny. I loved the film but, having only just found it, came to the play via the Radio 4 adaptation with all the same cast (except Irwin) - I wanted to know what was lost from play to film (a lot, I think). That led me to want to do something with voices only, partly for the challenge and partly to stop me spending a 1000 words describing a leaf. I wanted to see if I could set a scene without the descriptions and, besides, who needs to read a description of someone making tea? I've read it through very slowly, trying to hear their voices and making my own pictures. I think it works but can't see the wood for the trees anymore. I was itching to start describing at the end - you'll see why. I have never done anything like this before. I had a blast writing it (I need to get out more). I hope you enjoy reading it - I'd love some feedback. Anyway, I'll leave it on the table...

Stay and have a drink with me, would you? 

A drink...? 

...Jesus, he tells you everything, doesn’t he? 

Yes, he does - for my sins - whether I want to hear it or not. 

Seriously though - tea, if you prefer. I’m in the dark about whatever happened here and you know him better than anyone. Perhaps you can shed some light. 

Shed some light? It’s not complicated - it’s an awful cliché, but it’s not complicated. You haven’t seen him in months, he turns up pissed as a fart, declares undying love and passes out on your settee… is that what he did - the undying love bit? 

Something like that. He wasn’t terribly coherent and he called me some pretty colourful names, so I don’t know how much love there was in it. 

You disingenuous fuck. You can’t talk to him in his current state, so you want to bore on about him with someone who is almost, _almost_ , as fascinated by him as you are - without the desire to ravish him, you understand. Honestly, you deserve each other. Come on then, put the kettle on. You’d better make yours proper sweet - you’ve had a shock. 

Yeah, I have. I’ve got a packet of Bourbons somewhere. 

Temptress - that’s clinched the deal. How’s the leg? 

Getting there. A bit stiff and some shooting pains now and then. Lots of scars – for added character. I need the stick but perhaps not as much as all that - I’ll admit it’s a bit of a prop. 

Ha! Do you think it gives you gravitas? You do, don’t you? 

Felix suggested I grow a mustache – _for classroom control_ ; a stick’s better than facial hair anyway. 

I’m not sure you could grow one. Do you know, when I first saw you, I thought you were a new boy? 

I was, more or less. Is that why you smiled at me? 

I’m surprised you remember that. 

I was nervous – you were welcoming and it helped. You didn’t form a very good opinion of me though, in the end. 

The end? Are we there yet? How would we know if we were? Real life’s not that neat - the stories all flow over each other and the end’s never clearly signposted, never mind the beginning. Anyway, _you_ don’t have a very good opinion of _yourself_. I’m not sure you have a very high opinion of him either, beyond the obvious. 

Was it? Very obvious, I mean. 

Excruciatingly. I don’t think you were a normal colour for the entire term... poor Pos. 

He came to me for advice, you know... 

...He was looking for a fellow traveller. 

I was useless...worse than useless - I bullied him. 

Yep. Couldn’t you have given him anything, a crumb of comfort? 

Too scared of exposure - too scared of my own feelings to deal with his. It wasn’t very grown up of me… How is he? That’s a far-away look...are you worried about him? 

Yeah. He’s not coping very well, it’s a bit overwhelming for him. 

I thought it might be. Of all of you, he reminds me most of me at that age. 

Five minutes ago... 

...Maybe ten. I let him down in more ways than one, didn’t I? 

He got a scholarship, thanks to you. 

Only partly thanks to me – I didn’t sit the exams for you. But he should have gone to Newcastle and been happy. Oxbridge isn’t the be-all and end-all... but he’s got you, that’s a help, surely? He has a beautiful voice - do you still play together? 

We do, when we get the chance...it’s...it’s a joy. When we play, there’s only now...the present...you know...yes, I think it helps. It helps me anyway. 

Joy? 

I don’t have another word for it. Not one that will do the job. I’m sorry if it’s too effusive – I meant joy, so I said joy. 

I wasn’t criticising… it’s a lovely turn of phrase – old fashioned, but none the worse for that. Good. I’m glad you have that – both of you – really. When you see him, say... oh, just tell him I’m sorry I was an insensitive prick. I was trying to think of something clever, but that only compounds it. I was jealous of you, you know? 

Who? 

All of you. You had such an easy camaraderie, you and your Pals Battalion. I never had that - my school mates weren’t as understanding as Posner’s. I was even a bit jealous of Hector. I really wanted to be behind that locked door messing around with you all - part of all the silliness. 

Hence the posturing. Couldn’t join us, so you had to beat us? 

Yes, I suppose. But I had a job to do. I was meant to get you through that exam and I did. I wasn’t there to be popular. 

Can’t take that away from you. But you were a breath of fresh air - really, you were - don’t look so quizzical. We needed to get outside; it had all become a bit stuffy. And you weren’t so bad. I was defensive - of Pos and Hector and probably him too. I think we’ve all grown up a bit, haven’t we? Well, not Hector, obviously. 

Did you blame me for Hector - for Hector’s death? 

No. Is that what you thought? It was arbitrary, random, an accident. Besides, how do you know you didn’t save Stu’s life? If Felix had turned up a moment or two later...if it wasn’t you on the bike... 

Do you know why I did it? Got on the bike, I mean, instead of him? 

Enlighten me. 

Because he’d made me feel brave and invincible. For the first time, I felt like I belonged - good enough to belong. And I wanted to please him. He wanted bold and impulsive, so I gave him bold and impulsive. That bubble burst pretty quickly. Hubris. Maybe I killed Hector with hubris... 

...Or saved Stu’s life with it. Who knows? Random. Arbitrary. I know you don’t have any truck with pre-determination - I’m beginning to question it myself. I’m sticking with God, for now, but he may have over-sold me on his having a plan. 

Neither omniscient nor omnipotent then, your God? 

It seems not. And I’m not convinced about benevolent either. I think I’ve got as far as whimsical; I’m more or less comfortable with whimsical. 

Capricious. 

Yeah, yeah - and it’s turtles all the way down, I know. It’s a work in progress, faith - faith _and_ love. We’re out of the honeymoon period anyway, God and I. We’re working on a comfortable, long term companionship. Anyway, enough of this whatiffery - pass those biscuits. 

How long have you known him? 

God? 

No, Stuart. 

I’m not sure. It’s hard to remember a time when I didn’t, when he wasn’t just there - a force of nature. 

God? 

No, Stu! 

It’s an easy mistake. What do you get out of it? It looks like a one-way street sometimes and you don’t really have anything good to say about him. 

Oh, I do. But not when he’s listening - he doesn’t need encouraging. 

Well, at the moment he’s semi-conscious, so you can probably let rip. I’m curious; indulge me. 

It’s fraternal. I love him like a brother and I hate him like a brother – I’m stuck with him for life, either way. He’s a complete dick. He’s shallow, selfish, vain, arrogant, all of that - but he’s never dull. But don’t let me catch anyone else saying that. He might be a complete dick, but he’s _my_ complete dick - though I appreciate I’m going to have to share him with you. 

You still haven’t said anything good about him, except he’s not dull. 

Haven’t I? He has great hair. And, when he turns that smile on you, you can forgive him almost anything. 

Great hair and a winning smile are not admirable qualities, they’re accidents of birth. 

Beauty? Charisma? Charm? Demagogues through the ages might beg to differ. But...okay... well, he’s fiercely loyal and he has a strong sense of natural justice. You wouldn’t want him for an enemy, would you? Did you know it was him who got Hector reinstated? 

No. How did he do that? 

Blackmail mostly and an intolerance of double standards. He pointed out Felix’s less than professional working relationship with Fiona. And, despite appearances, he’s fundamentally kind or, at least, not cruel. He was never cruel to Pos - not intentionally - and he could have been. He could have been vicious, but it’s not in him. Did I mention his not being dull? 

You did, yes, a couple of times. I’m leaving the school, you know - education entirely, in fact. I’m going to London in the Autumn to work for the BBC on a history series they’re planning - popular stuff - journalism, as Tottie had it. 

Mrs Lintott to you, Sunshine. That’s a big change - is it what you want? 

Dorothy, actually - excellent woman. Don’t know yet. But I need to get out or I’ll be Hector in five years. 

You really think so? It’s a shame. 

It isn’t. Hector told me to anyway. 

What, from beyond the grave? 

No, idiot, before. He was most emphatic - Don’t Teach! And, under the circumstances, I think I owe him one. Mind you, he also told me to keep well away from Stuart and look where that’s got me. But yes, I would get older and the boys wouldn’t. I could hardly stand the latest crop of eager young faces - I’d be a sad fuck before you knew it. Contrary to what you think, I respected Hector - eventually. In the end, he was kind to me too. And he saw right through me. 

But you will be teaching, won’t you? Only removed. Not having to deal with the messy human stuff - relationships. 

I’m not going to be in a silo - there will be other people - maybe even grown-ups. 

Fair enough. It’s easier to get to Oxford from London and vice versa - and London’s a bit more enticing, for a visit. 

I didn’t think about that. 

You fibber! 

I didn’t! Well, it wasn’t part of the decision-making process anyway, but I suppose it is serendipitous. 

You thought about it. 

Okay, it was in the pros column. God, you’re forensic... How many, erm, relationships has he had since you’ve been there? 

Relationships? Precisely zero. If you mean, how many people has he shagged, I’m not sure you want to know. 

You’re right, I don’t. Girls or boys? 

Both. He’s not one to limit his options. 

If not quantity, then quality? 

Desperation - crashing about making obvious noise. Don’t get me wrong, he’s had a lot of fun - we all have. But, you know... the closer we’ve got to the holidays, the more distracted he’s become. I shouldn’t tell you this, but a couple of weeks ago there was this girl and, apparently, you kept popping into his head - unbidden, as it were - and he couldn’t...erm...perform. He was furious - you should have heard him ranting. Stop laughing - it isn’t funny. 

It is bloody funny! 

I know. I had the same reaction when he was telling me – I had to keep biting the inside of my cheeks. The pains in your leg are probably him sticking pins in a little, skinny, bespectacled doll he keeps for the purpose. 

Oh, thanks for that image. I think that’s what he was trying to tell me last night - with the colourful names. I couldn’t make head nor tail of it. 

It’s a thin line... 

Certainly is. He’s not always been my favourite person these past months either. He’s very lucky to have a friend like you. Does he know? 

Well, he keeps coming back for more so I suppose he does. How do you mean, anyway - like me? Someone who calls him on all his crap? 

That and someone who follows him when he’s pissed and likely to make a fool of himself - or fall under a bus - or both. 

I didn’t do a very good job. I was trying to head him off at the pass before he got here. But, as it turns out, my ineptitude may turn out to be pivotal. Shall I call you on yours? 

What? 

Crap. 

Okay, if you must. I suppose I’ve got it coming. 

Tell me something true. I mean, really true. Simple and true about this and how you feel about it - about him. 

The truth is rarely simple. 

For fuck’s sake, man! 

Okay. Okay. Sorry. The truth... oh God… um... I want him... I really do… but… 

...No buts! Please - don’t equivocate. 

I’m not. I wasn’t going to. I was going to say, but it’s more than that. I mean _want_ in the sense of desire, obviously, but also… also, lack. There’s this feeling of a void… a lacuna. I can’t shake it. 

A lacuna? You’re too clever for your own good. Are you sure it’s not indigestion? Are you perhaps over thinking it slightly? 

Possibly. Goes with the territory. 

Look. Given the state he’s in - don’t think he said that stuff because he was drunk; he got drunk so he could say it - and the state of you, I think we’ve established a few things. Firstly, you share a capacity for maudlin self-pity. Secondly, you fancy each other rotten and, thirdly, you’re lonely and you miss each other horribly. Given the weight of evidence, I don’t think either of you could put up much of a defence against your being in love. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. 

Good points; well made. Nice gerund too - your being in love. 

Arse. Not good points - true! Plain English - you should try it. 

Yes, all true. Incontrovertibly true. 

So, what are you going to do? How are you going to change things - make something happen? 

Talk to him, I suppose - in the morning. Be honest with him - ask him what he wants. 

No! 

What then? 

Tell him what he wants - brook no argument - sometimes he needs to be told what to do. 

I do rather enjoy telling him what to do. 

I’m not sure I want to know - your expression is positively lascivious. Stop grinning like that, it’s disturbing and it’s putting me right off my Bourbon. 

Sorry, I’m wiping the image from my mind’s eye immediately. How did you mean, anyway - you don’t think I have a very high opinion of him or myself? 

It strikes me you don’t think he’s capable of genuine feelings and, even if he were, you don’t think you’re worthy of them. You’re wrong on both counts, you know. I meant it; you deserve each other – for good or ill. 

I take your point. I’ll work on it - self-esteem or something touchy-feely like that...refill? 

No thanks, I think I should go. We all need some sleep. I’ll let his mum know he had a few too many and crashed out at mine. I find the most convincing lies are the ones closest to the truth, don’t you? Easiest to keep track that way... look, I know you’re easily startled, but I’m considering giving you a manly hug and a pat on the back, that kind of thing. Would that be acceptable to you? 

Perfectly acceptable. I might even welcome it. 

Right. Come here then – bloody hell, you don’t get any fatter, do you? Courage, mon brave. Try and get a bit of shut-eye before Sleeping Beauty, over there, surfaces. 

Thank you. This was…erm... cathartic. Maybe next time we can talk about why your ears go pink when you talk about Posner and what you should do about it. 

Fuck off! 

Fuck off yourself. Next time bring Custard Creams 

*** 

Urgh. Will you shut up, you bastard bird. I know it’s dawn, fuck off with your infernal chirpiness. Jesus, my head. I think something’s crawled in my mouth and died... oh God, what did I say... what did I... nooooo. Shit, Scripps, you were meant to stop me. Where were you when I needed you, you fucker? Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck’s sake, Stu what is the matter with you? 

Oh, water... for this relief much thanks. What’s this? Handwriting looks like mine...ah, it would. 

**_S_ **

**_Drink the water and take the aspirin—you'll need it. The bathroom’s down the hall, next to my bedroom. Borrow my toothbrush and come to bed._ **

**_T x_ **

Well, that’s uncharacteristically direct - he might have said please. T...? Oh...Tom. Oh... and x. Oh...okay. 

*** 

Jesus, your hands are freezing! 

And you are deliciously warm – I might have to take a bite out of you. Where shall I put them to warm them up? I could slip them between...mmm, that’s mmm… Is that okay? 

I’ll let you know when I’ve regained the feeling in my inner thighs. 

Thanks for the water and pain killers. It’s nice to feel looked after - after bloody Scripps abandoned me. 

Stuart! Honestly, your ego knows no bounds, does it? Perhaps we should just get some sleep... 

Tom? Come on, please. Don’t turn your back on me… shit. Look, I don’t know what I’ve said but, I’m sorry, okay? Tom, please... turn over…look at me... I want to see your face… I want... I’ve been wanting to see you so much and I know I’ve messed everything up. Can we start again...please...that’s better...hello. 

Hello yourself. He didn’t abandon you - far from it - and you ought to appreciate him more. For your information, we had a very pleasant evening without you. 

Did you now? What on earth could you two have to talk about - apart from me? 

Plenty. We did talk about what a complete dick you are though. 

But you love me anyway, don’t you… yeah, there you go... that’s the one... that smile... I’ve missed that, I have _really_ missed that. You look different though…ooh, no glasses - dear God, you’re naked! 

Fool. I don’t sleep in them, you know. 

I always imagined you did - probably upright in a corner - listen, Tom...I... I, erm... I really am sorry. 

What are you sorry for? 

Last night in particular; everything in general. 

There’s nothing to be sorry for about last night and we can deal with _everything_ later. In the meantime, did you brush your teeth? 

Yes, I’m all minty fresh. 

Well then, if it’s all the same to you, I suggest you shut up and kiss me. 

Yes, S... 

...Don’t you dare! 


End file.
